


Choice

by kalycle



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, Missing Scene, or/and
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 09:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15361197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalycle/pseuds/kalycle
Summary: Solas asks a question.





	Choice

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first work I have published here on AO3. It is unbetaed.

She watched him, from time to time. It was different from her regard when she listened to his stories. The weight of her gaze rested on him, and despite his long experience with patience he found his resolve lessening this night. She had proven herself over and again and he wondered; he found himself curious, which was not a thing he experienced outside of the Fade. So, on impulse, he spoke.

“Does something trouble you, Inquisitor?”

He saw her eyes flicker, knew that she registered the lack of elvhen endearment, but she answered. “My heart calls to yours, Solas.”

He said nothing. Knew not what to say.

Most unexpected. Worrisome.

She paused, not waiting, but considering. “I do not trust it. You are keeping something from me. It is a weighty thing.” Another pause. Her gaze did not waver, and again, through his growing unease, he felt a stab of curiosity, of anticipation. “You will have noticed, of course, that I do not pursue the occasional opportunity that arises between us.”

It was not a question, and yet she did not continue. A small prod of irritation prompted him. “So you would plumb my secrets, I suppose. Simply for an infatuation.”

This Dalish elf knew - suspected, rather - that his superiority was well-founded. She understood his wisdom outstripped her own (in some areas, he had to admit). And yet in this he had erred, and knew it at once. Her eyes flashed and she replied, “I do not inquire. And, despite your ventures into my dreams, I know my mind better than you. Do not visit my intentions. It is arrogant.”

He bowed his head and dropped his eyes for a moment. He would play with this betimes, hold her gaze and make her aware that he chose to cede the point, but here she was in the right and he respected her. Her wit, her wisdom despite her origin. Another kind of arrogance, he supposed, with a flicker of irony.

Then she spoke again. “I have found… solace in your company. So different, you and I, and yet familiar too. Your stories, your counsel have been a balm to me.” A grin flitted across her face. “And yet there is a fly in the ointment.”

He could not suppress a smile, though it was tinged with melancholy. “You are… not wrong, Inquisitor.” A short breath escaped him, perhaps too abruptly. “Again you startle me with your insight.”

He could practically see her resist rolling her eyes. “In any event, my friend, that is what has been on my mind tonight. Do not expect this question of mine to wane.” Another smile, this time wry. “You fascinate me, Solas, and I sense a current between us frequently. Potential. But that current runs deep, and I do not tread unknown waters. Not in this.”

He gazed at her, into her clear grey eyes, again humbled by the depth of her perception, by the strength of her will and her mind. Always he held himself aloof from the descendants of the ancient races, always separate, always other. He had never wanted to share himself with one of them and was surprised at the sudden longing that suffused him. It must have shown on his face. Her expression twisted briefly. She turned and walked from the rotunda toward the hall, and as the heavy wooden door fell shut behind her he wondered again at the possibility and felt that long-dormant anguish raise its head as though to caution him against rash decisions. He had a little time, after all.


End file.
